


Like a Battlefield

by Misty_Reeyus



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, PWP, Post-Canon, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 06:59:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2015454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misty_Reeyus/pseuds/Misty_Reeyus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More than anything, he needs to feel her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Battlefield

**Author's Note:**

> for the prompt: [Yuri/Estelle - post battle sex; where things cut it really close in a battle and the two are just so glad the other survived that it turns into sex] on the fresh new tales-of-kink-meme @ dreamwidth

Yuri’s nerves are screaming bloody murder and it’s all he can do to keep from screaming himself because sickly warm liquid is seeping out of him and through his shirt, past his shaking hand and onto the grass, and shit shit  _shit_  this hurts like hell. Gravel digs uncomfortably into his back but even the slightest twitch of his body induces a sting as sharp as knives in his side where a beast’s claws ripped through it like it was parchment, so Yuri lies stock still while Estelle looms over him and magic sparks over his skin, sinking into him, blooming with a familiar holy power that gradually washes the pain away. When the bleeding’s slowed, deft fingers yank down his shirt zipper and shove both the garment and his hand aside to give her spells full access to the wound, and when Yuri can bear to move again, he looks down to find it’s dwindled down to two tender pink scars.  
  
“That’s enough. Heal yourself already,” Yuri gasps, because Estelle’s not looking too hot herself. His girlfriend is still bleeding from the gash that stretches from her shoulder to her collarbone and Yuri recalls all too vividly the way one monster swung its bladelike tail so that it was terrifyingly close to slashing her throat, so that it  _would_  have slashed her throat if Estelle hadn’t dodged when she had. Yuri cringes at the memory but Estelle must think it’s from the pain because she panics and increases the flow of magic to his side so that the scars are visibly fading, blending in with the rest of his skin.  
  
Yuri snatches her wrists and levels her with a harsh stare.  
  
“Estelle, I’m fine now.  _Heal yourself_.”  
  
He’s not going to take no for an answer and though Estelle hesitates a moment, she soon nods obediently. He lets go and her left hand hovers over her chest, glowing with healing energy, while the other hastily unzips her dress just enough to expose the wound entirely. After a minute, she pulls her hand away as if she’s done, but it isn’t until Yuri reaches up to wipe the blood away and sees the pale skin marred by only a thin pink line that he can let himself breathe again.  
  
That breath is promptly stolen from him when Estelle suddenly dives down to straddle his hips and kiss him  _hard_.  
  
It must be either the lingering adrenaline or the immense relief or probably both actually that drives her to do it because that’s exactly what has Yuri immediately kissing back, lips fervent and needy against hers because  _spirits_  that was way too close on both their parts. Estelle’s the one who thrusts her tongue into his mouth first, so that there’s a mixture of salty sweat and fruity gels hitting his tastebuds, and he’s not sure how much of it is her taste and how much is his own. But her tongue swirling over his sends something rolling down Yuri’s spine that makes his hips buck up into hers and suddenly it doesn’t matter, because now she’s grinding down on him too and they’re both doing it in sync;  _everything_ about them is in sync.  
  
Yuri feels like she’s melting into him even as she breaks the kiss, and he groans with the same wild, almost desperate desire that he sees reflected in lidded green eyes. Before he even knows it, he’s twisting, flipping them over swiftly until Estelle’s back hits the ground with a thud, and in the back of his mind he momentarily fears that it might have been too rough on her, considering her injury, but Estelle’s groan is too longing to be pained so Yuri relaxes. He pulls her zipper down all the way and after he’s yanked her whole dress down and off, the first thing he does is trace his fingers over the mostly healed skin of her clavicle.  
  
Yuri just saw her almost get sliced through and all he needs right now is to feel her against him, warm and breathing and whole and  _okay_.  
  
His hands reach back to untie his belt but Estelle’s restlessly rubbing herself up into him through their clothes and that doesn’t help because he’s just as impatient as her, if not more. When he finally manages to toss his belt aside, Estelle’s hands are at his pants before he can blink and cold air hits his exposed legs as two layers of fabric fall straight to his knees. His burning arousal twitches at the chill.  
  
Estelle tucks her knees in to grab at her leggings and roll them down and Yuri shifts to pull off her boots. The princess moves slow but she’s not teasing—her clenched teeth and shut eyes show she feels just as desperate as he does—and by the time she’s managed to get the garment halfway down her thigh, the boots are already off and Yuri can’t wait anymore.  
  
He slides his hand beneath her panties, through slick folds, and Estelle gasps in a way that makes Yuri’s cock go stiff as a rod and spirits, he  _hates_  those damn leggings so much right now because they’re only just past her knee and this is taking way too long. His thumb fondles for her clit and presses down as if that will make her go faster, and when she gives a deliciously obscene yelp, he slips the remaining fingers in to play at her entrance. His other hand grabs the top of the left stocking and Estelle focuses all her attention on the right and after a surely agonizing amount of time for the both of them, Yuri slides the last of the fabric past her feet and throws it to the side with a vengeance.  
  
Her underwear slides off with far less difficulty so Yuri quickly chucks it towards the ever growing heap of discarded princess clothes and licks his lips. Estelle’s so wet already, she’s practically dripping onto the grass, and normally Yuri would be tempted to keep her in suspense for a bit, to circle her curls with a fingertip or trail licks and kisses along her inner thigh just to tease, but if he did that this time he’s certain Estelle would kill him via crushing his head between her thighs and anyway, he doesn’t actually want to.  
  
Neither of them is in the mood for foreplay right now.  
  
Yuri’s unfastens his own boots in a flash, kicks both his pants and boxers entirely off with ease, then takes his left fingers in his mouth to thoroughly coat them with the closest thing to lube he’s got at the moment. His member is throbbing with need and even though his right hand is occupied with supporting his weight, he’s half tempted to bring it between his legs to provide himself at least a modicum of relief.  
  
As if she’s read his mind, Estelle sets her hands on him.  
  
“Hurry up,” she hisses, one set of fingers curling around his length, squeezing tight, pumping, while the other skillfully traces fingernails over his balls, and if she’s doing that to motivate him, then  _by heavens_ , is it working. Yuri jolts, fingers popping out his mouth as he throws his head back with a breathy moan, and though it takes him a moment to recover, he’s quick to return the favor by reaching down and slipping his fingers inside her. He spreads her, seeks that familiar spot on her walls that always drives her crazy when brushed just right, and he glows with victory when she jumps and screeches like an animal, pleasured tremors wracking her entire form.  
  
Yuri pulls out his fingers and shifts until his tip is pressed up against her entrance, eager and waiting. He looks down into Estelle’s eyes for permission.  
  
“ _Hurry_ ,” she urges again, panting, insistent, and Yuri jams himself in without another moment’s pause.  
  
Estelle’s slick and tight and the feel of her clenching around him sets his blood on fire beneath his skin, shoots jolts of ecstasy straight up his spine. Yuri sinks down into her entirely, savoring how her breasts press into him through her bra and his open shirt, how her twitching hips fit so perfectly into his, how her quivering breaths turn to unbridled, pleasured cries at each rhythmic thrust. Pressure builds up within him as his own enthused shouts mingle with hers and ring in his ears, and Estelle’s muscles closing around his cock bring him ever closer to the edge, until suddenly she’s twice as tight around him and a wild scream is rattling his eardrums.  
  
Her own orgasm sets him ablaze at last and Yuri also loses himself inside her as a strained, utterly gratified yell rips its way out his throat.  
  
Yuri has to pant for breath for a while before he can pull out and push himself up, but even when the high fades, he still feels like he’s soaring as he gets himself into a sitting position, knees still straddling Estelle. She’s gazing up at him when he glances down, green eyes shining beneath ruffled bangs, rosy lips perking with something like gratefulness and relief.  
  
Her palm gently curls around his side.  
  
“Does it still hurt?” Estelle thumbs the scars, touch soft like a butterfly, and Yuri smiles at the warm tingle it leaves behind on his skin.  
  
“No,” he assures, his eyes flicking to her upper chest. “You?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Good.”  
  
Yuri’s now becoming all too conscious of how sticky and dirty they both are, how his knees and her bare butt are digging into grass and gravel and a pool of their own combined cum, and he knows that pretty soon they’re gonna have to get up, gonna have to clean themselves and get their clothes back on and either keep on moving or set up camp right here before any more enemies come their way and catch them with their pants down. Literally.  
  
He bends down to press one last fluttering kiss to the mark stretching along her collarbone.  
  
“Let’s just be grateful you’re such a good healer,” Yuri murmurs into her skin, and any tension that was plaguing him before drains completely out as he stands and proffers a hand down to her, which she readily accepts. “Come on, we should get moving.”  
  
Estelle grips his hand tight like she never wants to let him go and Yuri’s glad, because he feels the same exact way.


End file.
